


12 Days of Yuletide Day 7

by StarlingintheskyV2



Series: 12 Days of Yule [7]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Oral Sex, Prostate Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28176807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlingintheskyV2/pseuds/StarlingintheskyV2
Summary: Frodo proposes to Sam, they make love later that night. First chapter is non nsfw so everyone can enjoy the proposal scene.
Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee
Series: 12 Days of Yule [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2054814
Kudos: 22





	1. The Locket

Frodo awoke with a ghastly headache the next morning. He also realized that he and Sam were lying on the sofa and were wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

He groaned and buried his head into Sam's chest, trying to block out the light that was peeking through the curtains.

"Oh why did I drink so much last night?" He grumbled.

His memories of the previous night were a bit muddled, but he knew that Merry was over and that he had had way too much to drink, or so his head and stomach were telling him.

Sam too seemed to be trying to block out the hated sunlight with a pillow.

"I feel like I got run over by a stagecoach," Sam groaned,"I ain't never drinking anything Merry gives us again. Are you all right Frodo-dear?"

"I think your stagecoach ran over my head," said Frodo into Sam's chest, "we probably should make some willow bark tea."

He sat up and immediately regretted it. The whole world was tilting on its axis and his stomach was  _ very _ unhappy about this sudden change in position.

"Fuck," he said, laying back down against Sam, "I'm just going to stay here."

Sam wanted to agree, but he knew lying on the sofa moaning and groaning wouldn't fix their problems.

Gently, he maneuvered himself out from under Frodo, being careful not to jostle him too much, and laid a pillow under his head.

"I'll get everything ready, Love," he said, trying to ignore his own pounding head, "do you need me to fetch a basin?"

Frodo's voice came from underneath the blanket he had just pulled over his head, "wouldn't be a bad idea. My stomach is being incredibly disagreeable right now."

Their breakfast that morning consisted of dry toast and tea. Merry joined them looking every bit as miserable as they felt.

"Please tell me that's willow bark," whispered Merry, pouring himself some tea.

"Yes," said Frodo, who had perked up a little, but had been working on the same piece of toast, for the past ten minutes. Thankfully he had managed to not throw up, but he felt as though someone had lit a match in his belly. At least his head wasn't hurting as much.

"I'm never drinking that much again," said Merry as he took a sip of his tea.

"I give it till New Year's," commented Sam, who seemed to have been the least affected.

Merry glared at him, "I hate you."

"Don't you dare slander Sam in that way," said Frodo half-heartedly, "you can just stay at the Dragon if you're going to do that."

"I'm not supposed to stay here until tomorrow anyway," said Merry, "all my things are back at the inn.

When Merry left, Frodo turned to Sam, winging his hands and looking decidedly nervous.

"Er Sam," he said, "I- would you like to go for a walk in the garden?"

"Tis cold out there," Sam said, "are you sure? "

"We'll," he stammered, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve, "I haven't, er, I-um haven't been out there in so long and, well… you've worked so hard and I have yet to see all the winter flowers you've planted."

"All right," said Sam, "I'll get our coats then, but look here, you tell me the moment you get too cold."

"All right Sam," Frodo said, "I'll meet you at the back door."

Something was definitely up. Why, he hadn't seen Frodo this nervous since he'd asked him to move in. It was clear that he was planning something big. But then again, so was Sam.

They stopped in a place that Sam knew was one of Frodo's favorites. Hobbiton stretched out below them, a thick blanket of snow covering the town they had grown up in.

Frodo's breath was smoking and he was trembling just a little bit, even with a heavy wool coat on.

"Sam I-," his hand was fiddling with something in his pocket, "we've been together for the past two years and…well, I love you so much. I-I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

He pulled a silver object out of his pocket. It was a locket with two birds etched into it.

"I don't ever want to be apart from you," he said, "Sam, will you marry me?"

Sam was crying, and laughing at the same time. He took Frodo's face in his hands and smooched him.

"Bless you Frodo," he laughed, "I was going to ask you the same thing!"

"Y-you're joking!" Said Frodo, completely flabbergasted.

Sam smiled sheepishly and pulled a hand woven leather bracelet out of his pocket.

They both examined their engagement presents.

The bracelet was intricately woven and had a curved plaque attached to it. On it it said: 

_ You are more dear to me than the whole Shire _

_ I love you Frodo. _

"Oh Sam," said Frodo, "it's beautiful."

"So's yours." Said Sam.

"You should open it darling."

Sam did so. Inside, there was a portrait of Frodo and on the other side there was an inscription:

_ To my beloved Sam: _

_ Fate bound us together _

_ And nothing will tear us apart _

_ Wherever we go, you are my home _

_ I love you. _

Tears welled in Sam's eyes, "oh Frodo, it's- I love you too!"

When they came back inside, Sam made them tea and stoked the fire in the parlor. He noticed that Frodo was rubbing his bad shoulder.

"You were out too long," said Sam.

"Mmh," said Frodo, "yes. Could you get my ointment? It's not bad but-"

"I'll get it," Sam said, "get yourself wrapped up, your Sam will take care of you."

He soon came back with the jar. Sitting down, he reached for the buttons of Frodo's shirt. Once it was partially unbuttoned, he massaged the ointment into his skin.

"Why don't you nap for a bit," said Sam, "you've had a bit of a rough day."

"Yes," Frodo said, squeezing his hand, "but I'm going to marry the most beautiful, wonderful hobbit in the Shire."

Sam leaned over and kissed him, "sleep. I'll wake you when lunch is ready."

When he was sure Frodo was asleep, Sam busied himself with cooking lunch.

He had just put in the sausage rolls, when he felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around his waist.

Frodo rested his chin on Sam's shoulder.

"It smells good in here," said Frodo, kissing Sam's cheek, "sausage rolls?"

"Aye," said Sam, "how's your shoulder?"

"Better," Frodo murmured, "still a bit numb, but I'm not in pain."

Sam turned, slipping a hand under Frodo's shirt, coming to rest over the white scar on Frodo's left shoulder. It was cold still.

"You ought to lie back down, Frodo," Sam said, "you're too cold for my liking,"

"Sam-" began Frodo.

"Don't Sam me, Frodo Baggins," he interrupted, "the last time you got like this and tried to do too much, you got sick with a fever. Do you want Miss Goldie to call on you again and make you take an ice bath?"

Frodo shook his head. The wrath of Hobbiton's resident healer when her advice was not adhered to was the stuff of legend.

"Then go lie back down," Sam said, "lunch will be ready in about half an hour."

When the food was ready, he came in to find Frodo propped up with some pillows reading a book.

"Feeling better?" Sam asked, setting the tray on the low table in front of them, a beautifully carved thing known as a coffee table.

"Yes," said Frodo, marking the page he was on and closing the book, "still a bit cold though."

Sam opened the jar of ointment and undid Frodo's shirt again. He noticed that the area around Frodo's scar looked lighter than usual, and although there was a little bit of warmth returning, he still hadn't warmed up to Sam's satisfaction.

When he had applied the ointment, he put a quilted pad that was filled with rice that had been heated next to the oven onto Frodo's shoulder.

"Mmh," said Frodo, "that feels nice."

Sam filled a plate for Frodo and himself, lifting Frodo's legs so that they were resting in Sam's lap.


	2. Engagement Celebration

Later that night, Frodo and Sam were having an impromptu and very naked engagement celebration.

Frodo had busied himself with sucking Sam's cock. He knew he was probably drooling, but Sam tasted so good that he couldn't bring himself to care.

Sam's trembling hands were in his hair, tugging lightly as he moaned and panted. It was becoming harder and harder to not thrust up into Frodo's mouth.

Frodo gently rested his hand on Sam's belly to stop him from doing exactly that. He knew Sam was getting close. His back was arching and his voice had gone high and tight.

At the last minute, Frodo pulled off to finish the job with his hand. He'd never been known for his strong stomach and, as much as he loved Sam, he did not like the taste of cum.

Frodo kissed his way up Sam's body until he was lying on top of him.

Sam could feel Frodo hard against his hip. He knew it would not take much, a few shifts of his hips for Frodo to finish, but he deserved more.

He gently pushed Frodo into his back and kissed him before moving down his body to take his dick in his mouth.

Frodo gasped, hands clutching at the sheets as he squirmed under Sam.

"So good!" He moaned, "so good!"

He arched off the bed as Sam's finger started to circle his pucker.

"Do you?"

Frodo's only answer was to reach into the bedside drawer and practically throw the oil at Sam.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Sam with a laugh.

Sam gently pushed two fingers into Frodo's tight heat, watching for any signs of discomfort.

"Oh yes!" Frodo sighed as Sam's fingers breached him, "Oh! Oh! Oh Sam!"

Sam took Frodo's cock into his mouth again as he fucked him with his fingers. Frodo most certainly wasn't going to last much longer.

Each breath was coming out as a moan and he was trembling.

"Sam I'm-I'm," he said, "Oh! SAM!"

At the last minute, Sam crooked his fingers, massaging his most sensitive of places. Frodo came hard with an unusually loud cry.

Sam flopped down beside him, noticing that Frodo was still trembling.

"Holy," he panted, "holy shit!'

Sam grinned, "don't think I've ever heard you yell like that."

"Ah," said Frodo, still trying to catch his breath, "what the fuck did you do to me?"

"Don't know why I never thought to try that,"said Sam, leaning in for a kiss, "should've done that years ago. Are you all right Frodo?"

"I'm-" Frodo gasped, "I'm fine, just out of breath."

"Your shoulder all right?" Sam asked.

"Fine I think," Frodo replied, "though I think I'll need to get a nightshirt on."

In two days, it would be the Solstice and every hobbit who was well enough to travel would make their way to the Four Farthings stone to watch the sun set. This was followed by a great feast, bonfire, singing and dancing. The previous year, Frodo had not been strong enough to travel that far in cold weather. He really hoped he'd be well enough to go this year, even if Sam insisted on him using the bath chair that had belonged to his aunt Dora and he had to endure the pitying looks he would get.

So he wasn't able to walk as far, or endure the cold as well. He was happy, he had Sam, he was in love. A bit of weakness and those pitying looks for 'poor Frodo Baggins' was a fair tradeoff for everything he had now, even if others couldn't see it.


End file.
